


Only a Normal Tuesday

by Spirit_Healer_Mage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, MGiT, Modern Girl in Thedas, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:06:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spirit_Healer_Mage/pseuds/Spirit_Healer_Mage
Summary: Indulgent self-insert modern girl in Thedas fic, set during Dragon Age II in Kirkwall and (possibly?) extending further into the timeline depending on how much I feel like writing.  Will be unashamedly my own thoughts on characters and mostly for my own entertainment when I don't feel like working on my other fic.





	1. Chapter 1

I sigh in contentment, a wistful but satisfied smile on my face, as I watch the end credits roll in my latest Dragon Age 2 playthrough.  Though I _have_ played through other games, Dragon Age 2 remains my favorite.  The characters feel like family and I love each and every one of them - though I hadn't always.  Through my various playthroughs I have come to appreciate their differences and how they all fit together.   _If only I could travel to Thedas_ I think to myself sadly as I turn off the playstation in my living room and pull out my drawing pad to work on yet another iteration of the Dragon Age 2 gang.  I smile, falling into the recurring daydream of finding myself in their world and befriending them.  I smile and keep working, pausing now and then to erase a section that I want to fix and get just right; perfecting each of the character's expressions as best I can.  

Before I know it I have fallen asleep on my couch with my drawing pad, visions of Thedas dancing through my head.  The world fades into a dream-like state; blurring around the edges and emitting a strange blue glow that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere.  I gasp, surprised by how vivid everything feels as I walk forward in an almost trance-like state and reach for a particularly bright spot of light on the edge of my vision.  I feel myself become dizzy and nauseous as I walk further and feel the light envelop me completely.  I feel like I am being slowly pulled apart into a million pieces and then slammed back together again all in a sharply painful rush as the world around me fades again and I know nothing but blackness...

When consciousness returns again, I'm not sure if I am still dreaming or waking up for real this time.  I do know that my body hurts and I have a massive headache pulsing through me.  I groan, the pain deepening the sound and I decide keeping my eyes closed a little longer sounds like an awesome idea.  The ground beneath me definitely doesn't feel like my couch but I can't place what it _does_ feel like.  I hear several differently pitched voices rumbling above me in what sounds like an increasingly heated argument but for the life of me I can't seem to differentiate any specific words or voices.  I try to open my eyes but they don't want to listen to my inner commands and the more I try to focus on the voices above me, the fainter and more jumbled they become until everything just becomes a liquid rush of flowing sounds that trickles into blackness yet again.

When I awaken yet again - STILL not knowing where I am, the pain has at least become less.  The noises and voices around me are gone now and I feel calmer.  I slowly and carefully open my eyes and for a moment don't know if I have actually done so or not.  Everything is black.  Blacker than black.  After a few moments of staring into nothingness, my eyes adjust enough to see a ceiling above me.  Whatever I was laying on was a lot less comfortable than my couch at home and I slowly turn my head to see the rather ragged edge of a tan cot and what looks to be a tattered brownish blanket covering my body.  Confusion fills me and I decide to sit up and try and figure out where the hell I am and how I got here.   _Am I still dreaming??_ I wonder to myself.

I sit up with relatively little complication and the first thing I note is the disturbing silence around me.  No rush of cars in the distance.  No buzz of heater or dishwasher or electronics.  Everything is just _quiet_ .  I see several other cots around me, though they all are empty from what I can tell.  I seem to be in a room of some sort; though I can't make out where at all.  Nothing feels right.  Even the room itself seems as if it's been lifted out of the pages of some obscure medieval text.  There isn't even any electric lights or lamps for crying out loud.  The air smells herb-like....almost medicinal; though this is like no hospital or clinic I have ever been to.  I flex my fingers and toes just to make sure I can.  I _feel_ sane and awake.  I pinch myself - just to be sure and feel the telltale sharp prick of pain that assures me that I am _probably_ not dreaming.  I have been known to feel pain and fear in dreams before; especially when I hit a rather vivid dreaming cycle (which happens now and again) but most of the time a solid pinch breaks me out of my dreaming.  

Ok - _not_ dreaming.  I rack my brain to try and come up with what could possibly have happened after I fell asleep on my couch but, try as I might, I can remember nothing but the strange dream-like world and then being here.   _Where the hell AM I?_ I think to myself with rising panic.   _Did someone kidnap me?  Or maybe this is someone's cracked idea of a practical joke?_ I don't know for sure what's going on but I am damned well going to find out - and sooner rather than later.  I stand slowly, letting the wave of dizziness that first accompanies the motion fade away before taking slow and careful steps toward what seems to be a locked and barred door at the front of the room.  

Every sound and noise echoes loudly in my ears, though I can sense no other movements besides my own.  I take a moment and look at the door more carefully as I get closer to it.  It is a simple latch from the inside and is easily undone.  I take a deep breath and do my best to quell the rising anxiety that has begun to spark inside of me.  I _hate_ not knowing what is going on and I feel more out of my element than I have in a long time.  I count to three slowly and, as silently as I can, turn the roughly made handle on the beat-up wooden door in front of me.  I slip out and shut it softly behind me.  I am...somewhere.  I don't consciously recognize the place in front of me, though it seems to strike a chord of familiarity within me that I can't quite place.  The door seems to open onto a dead-end back street of some sort.  The stench that assaults me as I step fully out makes my eyes water as I take an involuntary step backwards and scrunch up my face in disgust.   _GROSS_ I think to myself, though I am still determined to find out what is going on.  There are a couple of antique-looking lamps (or lanterns, maybe?) on the outside of the building I was just in, though they don't seem to be lit at all.   _Must be late then._ I see a closed door to my right and a set of stairs going downward directly ahead of me.  I walk over to the door on my right but it is locked and I don't want to wake whoever may or may not be inside.  I hate to be an inconvenience and I have some fairly severe social anxiety.  Better to figure out where I am on my own.  I know I can trust myself at least.    

Sighing, I turn and head down the stairs instead.  The stairs are short and immediately turn into a set of stairs going upwards.  The sense of familiarity seems stronger as I venture further on.  I still don't see anyone though.  Perhaps that is a good thing.  If I can figure out what is going on it would make it easier when I did find someone.  I hope this isn't some practical joke by my best friend.  I know she enjoys them and it would be perfectly like her to set me up somewhere to get lost.  I was _always_ getting lost - my sense of direction is terrible and she always jokes that I would get lost inside of my own house if I wasn't paying attention.  Blushing a bit, I look down and see that at least I am wearing the same clothes I had fallen asleep in.  My tri-blend redbubble t-shirt emblazoned with my favorite fanart drawing of the dragon age 2 group.  I have on a pair of comfy dark blue jeans and my black Supernatural-themed shoes my roommate had gifted me with for Christmas one year.  I quickly pat myself down, noting my new solar-powered phone in one pocket and a small pendant with an impression of my cat Sam's paw on it.  He had been diagnosed with feline cancer less than a week ago and I am trying to make as many memories with him as I can before I lose him forever - the paw-print necklace was the latest endeavor in that regard.  

I don't seem to have anything else with me - no bag or food or drink or anything.  I notice upon further inspection of myself that my hair parts to reveal ears that have become slender and pointier than my normal ears.  I attempt to feel the tips of them, wondering if I (or someone else) had put on my highest-quality-I-could-afford cosplay ears.  It was weird if I _had_ somehow put them on.  I tended to reserve them for conventions and special occasions, wearing my much cheaper ears for day-to-day use.  But they don't feel fake.  I can feel the tips of them and they are warm and seem as real as the rest of my ears.  Feeling further, I can make out no discernable seam between the tips and the rest of my ear.  Weird!  I shrug and add it to the growing list of strange happenings this day and decide to continue on my way and figure out where I am before I worry about anything else.  Ears were the least of my concerns at the moment.

I wander for a bit.  I spy what looks to be a staircase or ladder descending deeper into wherever I am.  I decide to stay on the level I am.  I am bound to get lost here, better not to add another layer of something to get turned around in.  I continue on, noting the dirt and decay of the streets I am on.  It is rather intense.  I don't remember anywhere I live near being this filthy.  And none of the roads or streets seem wide or paved enough to admit cars or anything.  I shake my head in wonderment.  I head down a few more streets and, try as I might, I am very soon hopelessly lost.  If I had no idea where I was when this all started, I am definitely even more clueless now.  

Struck with sudden inspiration, I pull out my phone, squinting at the harsh light it emits when I activate and unlock it.  I open up my map app, hoping it can lead me out of wherever I am - or at least tell me roundabout where I am...even just the city's name itself would be a help.  But try as I might, the device refuses to show me the information.  It can't seem to connect to anything.  I sigh in frustration and shut it off again, thrusting it into my pocket and lamenting the lack of signal.  It never seems to work when I need it the most.  

I decide to stop walking.  I head over to the side of one of the buildings I am walking by and slide down to a seated position.  Walking and trying to figure things out is getting nowhere and I am feeling hungry and so so thirsty.  Perhaps if I sit down and contemplate things further I can figure out somewhere safe to go.  I look around but am just as lost as before.  It is lonely and kind of creepy that I have seen no one about at all.  Once again I wonder where in the hell I am.  If this is a hoax or a set up shouldn't there be a punchline?  Or someone jumping out yelling "gotcha" as I begin to panic.  Was I on some crazy candid camera setup?

"Okay!!"  I say to the air around me.  "Whoever you are and whatever your game is here - you can come out now and stop this ridiculous charade!  I don't believe you for one second!!  NONE OF THIS IS REAL!!!!"  I wait a moment or two but when no answer is forthcoming I begin to feel a twinge of legitimate fear.  I am lost in a foreign city of some sort.  In what looks to be a very bad section of the city no less.  I can't find my house or my friends or literally anyone else.  I can't even find my way back to the room with the cots - I have gotten myself too lost for that, even.  And as I sit there, I notice the air has taken on a distinct chill.  I _hate_ the cold.  I may have grown up in Michigan but my blood is all southern and I can never seem to get warm enough to feel comfortable.  And here, while it isn't snowing, still feels far too cold for me.  I groan and draw my knees up to my chest as I let my head fall forward and close my eyes.  

I begin rocking back and forth slightly and mumbling "It's okay, Sarah.  Just stay calm.  You have gotten through worse than this and you can get through this too.  Just take deep breaths and relax.  Don't freak out....don't freak out."  I stream-of-consciousness ramble to myself when I am nervous and on the verge of a panic attack and now is no exception.  I can feel myself teetering on the edge of losing control so I take another breath and draw myself to a standing position with as much determination as I can muster.  There is no sense in being frustrated or feeling sorry for myself - I have gone down that road before and it solves nothing.  Better to keep moving.  The longer I stay the harder and more intensely I will panic.  

"It's ok.  It's ok!  I am just walking along in some sort of crazy old city with no clue where I am or how I got here.  Nothing weird going on at all.  I am just walking and walking and walking and eventually I will walk into an ACTUAL recognizable sign or city street name or a person or something.  There is a totally and completely not crazy reason that this city also apparently contains no actual people.  It's not creepy...not creepy at all..." I ramble to myself.  

I am so busy trying to keep myself calm I don't even notice the person ahead of me; crashing into them and falling backwards onto the dirt-packed ground with a head-jarring thwump.  Dazed, I look up - my eyes widening in disbelief as I realize exactly who I ran into.  Harsh yet subtly graceful tattoo lines run through nearly the entirety of his skin, glowing a faint blue-white color.  The eyes looking down at me narrow and suspiciously appraise me; they mesmerize and are the clearest hue of brilliant emerald I have ever seen; even brighter than through the television screen at home. His hair is either the best damn wig I have ever seen or is legitimately white.   _Fenris?!?!_ I think incredulously in my head.  No way!  NO WAY!!  I KNOW this must be some sort of hoax or set up now.  There is absolutely NO WAY I just HAPPENED to fall into Thedas...   _Dragon Age is a made up fictional world.  This is not real...this is NOT real!  NOT REAL!_ I keep repeating in my head.  I can still feel my mind reeling from the shock of it all.  

"Come" Fenris says, his dark voice ambrosial and deeper than I expect from playing the games.  Unable to trust my voice, I nod and right myself once more before following him forwards into what appears to be an...inn...tavern?  Gah!  This is totally the Hanged Man!!  The unfortunate guy hanging upside down at the entrance is even more creepy and disturbing in real life.  I follow Fenris across the mostly-empty tavern and up into what has to be Varric's room.  I squeeeee inwardly as I look around.  This is a DAMNED good set-up.  If I didn't know better I would swear everything is absolutely real.  I feel a smile make its way unbidden to my face and I can't help but look around and grin foolishly.  

Fenris glares at my grin, looking even more suspicious and uncomfortable.  I can't help it though!  This is SO the best-looking cosplay I have ever SEEN!  I feel like I am well and truly standing face to face with the elven warrior IN the Hanged Man in Varric's suite IN KIRKWALL ITSELF!  I just can't seem to wipe the dreamy, foolish smile off of my face.  "Sit!"  Fenris commands sharply and, seeing no reason not to, I lower myself onto the nearest wooden chair, though I simply cannot wipe the elated grin off my face, even though I desperately want to go along with whatever cosplay scenario is currently playing out in front of me.

"Stop smiling," he commands, irritation rendering his words more harsh than normal.  

"I can't help it,"  I reply,  my voice pitched a tone higher than normal from my absolute excitement.  "This place is AMAZING!  YOU'RE amazing!!  I just want to stay right here forever and ever, 'kay?"  I can't keep the giddiness from infecting my voice.  Fenris just looks disturbed and more suspicious by my comment and keeps his gaze steadily on my person as he growls at me to stay quiet until the others arrive.  Content to obey and wondering where this is all heading, I manage to keep my mouth shut and just look in growing wide-eyed wonder at everything around me.  I am sitting near Varric's table and being able to see all the details in the wood grain as well as the decorations in the room is awesome.  I almost break my silence when I spy a deck of cards arranged on one end of the table.  Were those for Wicked Grace???  GAH!  SO COOL!!!  I can't wait until 'the others' arrive!!  I wonder who exactly managed to be roped into this cosplay.  I hope there's an Anders.  Anders and Fenris are two of my favorite characters.  And Hawke?  Will it be a Garrett or a Marian?  Which class?!?!  I can hardly wait!!


	2. Chapter 2

Waiting for everyone else seems endless, Fenris staring intently at me as I awkwardly avoid his assessing gaze that seems to pierce into me as sharp and jagged as broken glass.  I try to hang tight until the others arrive, hoping that it will ease the tension in the room; ease the tension within  _ me _ .  I notice him glaring at the figures of the dragon age Kirkwall crew on my shirt as if they personally offend him; he starts to open his mouth once or twice before snapping it shut again firmly.  Fenris is focusing so intently and so suspiciously I feel like his eyes are burning straight through me. I feel my anxiety beginning to rise now that the initial surge of adrenaline from running into him wanes away.  My chest is tightening more and more firmly and I can feel the need to fidget with something increasing as I contemplate meeting these people.  _ Are they all going to be random cosplayers I don't know?  Are they all going to act this angry?  _ I wonder to myself.  Hopefully at least one or two of my friends has joined in so I won't feel out of my element as much.   _ I am SO not good at peopling _ .  I know these are characters I should be comfortable with as I've spent countless hours with them in game but it's different when the personification of the characters themselves walk off of the screen and are larger than life next to you.  If I didn't know better I would say this was THE Fenris; I keep telling myself over and over that this is only a cosplay...only a normal person. I ponder briefly if I should say something to the Fenris character or if it would only make things worse.  I open and shut my mouth a few times as I vacillate between the two choices. The decision is soon made for me, though, as I hear the telltale stomp of booted feet growing louder and louder, heading our direction.

I see Hawke enter the room, looking strikingly like the default Garrett, complete with slash of crimson across his nose.  Unlike in-game Hawke, this cosplay Hawke is more muscular and radiates dangerous intimidation; his amber gaze burning into me as surely as a sword or dagger would.  Even without knowing who he is I would NOT want to cross this man....like  _ EVER _ .  The teasing, light-hearted purple Hawke and diplomatic, kind green Hawke I normally played a mixture of was definitely NOT this Hawke.  Not right now, at least. There is a carved wooden staff attached to his back and I surmise he is meant to be a mage Hawke. Even the staff itself looks gritty and more realistic than any cosplay I've ever seen; looking as if it has seen actual, regular use, the parts where one would wield a staff worn smooth and other spots chipped in places.  I draw a sharp intake of breath and find myself unable to speak, even if I want to. I begin to doubt my previous assumptions of this being a set-up or cosplay scene. Whoever this guy actually is, he is fucking  _ ripped _ and seems to fill the room with his presence; larger than life and twice as intense.  Him and Fenris exchange a knowing look and I can't help it...I audibly gulp and can feel my face flush in fear and admiration as Hawke and Fenris BOTH turn their fierce gazes to my own.   _ Fuck  _ I think to myself  _ if these are the cosplay versions of these characters I sure as hell am glad that they only exist in a game.   _ For the first time since I woke in this crazy mess of wherever-the-hell-this-is, I begin to seriously doubt my assumptions and wonder if this is more than just cosplay; if I've become mixed up in something far bigger and stranger than I ever anticipated.  

"Who are you?"  Hawke asks commandingly with a voice that demands and expects an instant answer.  I look down at myself and my definitely-not-cosplay clothes and definitely-DEFINITELY-not-Thedosian clothes and wonder fleetingly if I should answer as my true self or as an in-game persona of some sort.   _ Were  _ these people cosplayers?  I'm almost certain now that they are not and I'm not sure which route would be wiser; no answer I can give will be able to waive their suspicions of me.  Unable to decide which route would be best, I begin fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, not daring to say something and get whatever-this-is wrong. I can feel the air begin to stagnate in my lungs as my anxiety starts flaring higher; pictures running through my head of what would happen if I said the wrong thing; if I drew their anger and misplaced suspicion directly and fully on myself.  I almost don't see Hawke looking carefully at my shirt and the rest of my attire as my senses begin to shut down and I start to zone everything around me out - a panic attack beginning in full swing.

Hawke looks pissed, his arms crossed in front of him and his lips pressed together tightly in a thin line of impatience and barely suppressed frustration.  "WHO  _ ARE _ YOU??" he angrily roars; I can feel the air as it vibrates around me and all I manage is an embarrassing  _ squeak  _ as my anxiety takes full hold and I shut down and freeze, my tongue immovable and my breath lodged and trapped in my throat as everything around me begins to fully fade.  My eyes widen further with each step Hawke takes in my direction; Fenris' suspicious, angry glare only furthering the sensation of being frozen and afraid and not quite in my own body.  It's like I'm watching the scene unfold from some space above myself; I can even see my body below, frozen and unmoving, hands flickering with a strange blue light - the same shade of cerulean that was in the dream I had earlier but much more subdued.  The dull light starts to emanate from not just my hands now, but my arms as well and is growing in brightness with each passing second as Hawke steps closer. My thoughts are not even holding together coherently anymore and the me down below screams involuntarily as Hawke's face looms before it, larger than life, and I can  _ feel _ the raw energy and menace rolling off of him in thick waves, even from up here.  I swallow as the realization that this is all completely real slams into me with visceral intensity; completely freezing my spirit-self in place and abruptly slamming me back into my body somehow as the light fades from me.  

The air is thick with tension; the silence unnerving and the threat of impending violence roiling fiercely.  Just when I feel as if the room will explode with even one more ounce of tension, I hear Varric's immediately recognizable cadence as he strolls into the room, Bianca in hand and a roguish smile spread across his face.

"Well, I see you found Blondie's erstwhile patient," he intones smoothly, chuckling.  I can feel the tension immediately decrease as Hawke turns and gives the dwarf a quick half-smile of acknowledgement; the expression drastically changing the man from Oh-gods-he's-going-to-kill-me-any-second to mischievous and charming; the good-humored twinkle in his eyes rendering him more charismatic than I expected that intimidating figure to ever be.

"Yes; indeed we have," Hawke replies, his voice hardening as he turns back towards me.  "Well Fenris seems to have found her, to be exact. She was already here with him when I arrived."

"Good, good.  He seemed worried that she had disappeared from his clinic earlier; said something about how she shouldn't be up and walking around after that blow she took to the head."

"It worries me how fast you come up with nicknames, Varric," Hawke teases lightly.  "We only just met the man this morning and you've already got one picked out! Are you going to actually call him that when we head to the Chantry tonight to rescue his friend?"

"I still say that it's a bad idea," Fenris growls from a few feet over.  "Getting entangled in problems having to do with mages always leads to more trouble;  _ worse _ trouble.  And this one," he turns a glare towards me, "is obviously a mage as well and is connected somehow to the other.  Already the risk and danger grows - what else is the mage hiding?"

I can see Hawke chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully and seriously contemplating Fenris' words before frowning a moment and replying with, "I know it's a gamble, Fenris.  But we  _ need _ those maps and this is our best bet for them."  He pauses for a moment. "Besides, I actually  _ like _ helping people when I can - I helped you when you needed it too, because I wanted to - even if it  _ was _ technically 'dangerous'."

"Still," Fenris replies evenly, "the mage was the reason we were chasing after this strange elf woman to begin with."  He turns to look at me appraisingly once again and I look down; not able to meet his gaze as I realize how  _ real _ this actually is.  "I dislike that she has the mage and our likenesses adorning her garment as well.  How is this possible? What does the mage know that he's not telling us? How does he know her?  We could very easily be walking straight into a trap."

My mind reels sharply and I gasp in stunned realization as I pinpoint which questline they are on at the moment, choosing to forego the strange light that I had just witnessed as well as my still-troublesome elf ears to focus on other things - more important things.  I am suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that this is not just some cosplay set-up...the fact that this is almost certainly real and I can make a difference in how things end up playing out makes my stomach clench, equal parts terrified and elated.  _ Karl! I can help Anders save Karl!   _ I had always felt terrible during that scene; especially when you find out later that there is a cure for tranquility.  I knew bits and pieces about the cure from the games and I just knew if Anders and Hawke worked together they could figure out a way to save Karl and reverse his tranquility.  I just had to convince Anders that it was possible; to trust me enough to not just run a dagger through Karl's heart and 'cure' him that way instead. 

"Anders!"  I exclaim; the first words I've spoken since the others arrived.  All of the others turn and look at me and I almost stop there; any other situation and I would have.  I don't do well when there are too many people around. But this is important to me and I vow to push through regardless.  "Please - I need to talk to him! It's important"

"And here I was beginning to think you didn't speak Trade at all," Hawke teases; the contrast from intimidating to charming a stark difference; transforming the man's face from ferocious to handsome. 

"She does speak it,"  Fenris replies, his gaze flicking to Hawke for a moment before settling back on me.  "Just before you came in she said something about how everything here was amazing and she wanted to stay here forever."  

"She does know this is  _ Kirkwall _ , right?"  Hawke says, lifting an eyebrow incredulously.

"Hey!  Kirkwall isn't so bad.  There are a lot worse places to be!" Varric exclaims in turn as he twirls Bianca smoothly and attaches it to his back, apparently deciding I'm not too much of a threat.  "I, for one, think Kirkwall is absolutely lovely this time of year!"

"All well and good," Hawke replies, "but the question is what do we with her now?"

"I'd suggest heading back to Blondie," Varric replies, "it'll be easier to figure out what's going on then.  If he knows her or she knows him, we should be able to tell. Maybe we'll get some answers. Besides...you're scaring the poor girl the way you're both going on now!"

Fenris raises an eyebrow and angles himself slightly towards Varric.  " _ I  _ did nothing at all," he replies, a note of contempt in his voice.  "I simply found her and brought her to the agreed-upon meeting place."

"Broody - you could kill someone with that goddamn glare of yours!  You  _ looking  _ at her like you do is enough!"  Varric replies. "Between the both of you I reckon you can get her back to the Healer's clinic safe enough.  And if you think you need more insurance you could always bring along Junior or Red; even me, if you insist. She's not going anywhere out of sight.  Just bring her to Blondie's and get some answers; you can decide what to do then."

Hawke looks at Varric, then Fenris.  "It's not a bad idea actually. Some answers are needed, I think.  The ex-Grey Warden should be able to provide us with some. It could even be helpful - maybe this elven woman means something to him.  That could definitely help negotiations."

Fenris gives a decisive nod to Hawke and before I know it, I am standing and heading out of the door of Varric's room, then the Hanged Man itself.  I notice with relief that I can actually make out other people now; nothing is as empty as I first thought it to be. Hawke and Fenris are flanking me, each a step behind and though they seem to be walking the pace is almost more than I can handle.  Impatient to get to Anders' clinic, though, I push myself to go as fast as I can as well.

 

*           *           *

 

I feel embarrassed being 'escorted' by Fenris and Hawke but if this is the only way to get to talk to Anders before tonight's events then I will take it and be grateful!  My heart is thumping harshly; an irregular pounding more akin to a sledgehammer than an actual heartbeat.  _ This is it!  I'm going to meet the actual man behind the character I've always loved! _  I can barely believe it and do my best to not let myself get overwhelmed with anxiety again, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on anything but the potential reactions when I finally meet him.

Before I know it we are outside the well-known (at least in game and for me) clinic - it's so easy to spot now that I know what I'm looking for.  I see Hawke and Fenris stride purposefully past the glowing lanterns shining cheerfully above an open doorway, the low hum of voices emanating from within.  At this point I am already winded from the brisk pace we have been maintaining. I can't run - even if I actually wanted to. I think Hawke and Fenris sense it too, for they both leave me behind to peer through the doorway as they make their way into the large, somehow  _ cozy _ room ahead.

I stop a moment and lean against the open door frame as I attempt to catch my breath before going in.  It is with a barely suppressed fangirl  _ squeee! _ of delight that my roving eyes spot the iconic rebel feathermage at last.  I try to take in the sight before heading forward; unsure how different this version of Anders will be from the game and from the idealistic picture I've built in my head.  

I see Anders lean in gently towards a small elven boy with a heavily lacerated arm, blood spilling from the wound.  The boy is barefoot and grubby with streaks of tears slicing through the dirt on his young face that he is oh-so-bravely attempting to quell.  I can't hear what Anders is saying but I see the elfling give a shy smile through his tears in return to the words. The child's eyes grow wide and fearful as Anders' hands begin to glow a soft luminescent shade of cerulean.  

My own eyes widen and I can feel a wide grin spread across my face as the boy's wound begins to close and knit itself together - like some kind of crazy sci-fi or movie magic stunt.  The last tendril of doubt and disbelief fade fully from my mind; no  _ way _ that was faked.  Somehow I am well and truly in Kirkwall, in Thedas!!!  With actual, legitimate magic!! There is no denying it to myself any longer and I am struck with a sickening jolt of realization of exactly how serious and precarious a situation I am actually in.  I have been treating this like an awesome extension of the game, a cosplay or virtual-reality version.

But this is all real!  Real people living actual lives that I could royally and irrevocably mess up!  This is no game; not anymore. I feel the blood drain from my face and I begin second-guessing myself about telling Anders what was going to happen tonight when he went to rescue Karl with the others.  I shake myself inwardly. I have to do it! I know the outcome if I do nothing; if I can help; if I can make a difference I need to try!


	3. Chapter 3

If anything the fact that these people are not just pretending only serves to heighten my anxiety.  I need to do this right. I see Hawke and Fenris stride purposefully towards Anders after he is done healing the elven boy, the child's ears actually  _ moving _ and perking nearly straight up as he grins widely and hops down from where he is, running out the doors of the clinic with all the carefree energy of any other kid.  Every moment here further cements my conviction that this is all either an elaborate hallucination or 1,000% real. No way someone could fake ear movements like that kid just did.  My breath caught and feeling curious, especially as I'm riding on the all-of-these-people-are-actually-REAL?!?! train, I take a few steps towards Anders, Hawke, and Fenris. I can see that things are heated and growing more so and I wonder exactly where this confrontation will lead.  I see Anders' face grow suspicious at Hawke and Fenris' words. I slide a few more steps forward and suddenly Hawke and Anders are shouting over each other, while Fenris' markings have taken on a slight glow. Hawke gestures to me, waving a hand behind him and Anders steps to the side and looks curiously in my direction.  I instinctually shrink in on myself, drawing in my shoulders and automatically dropping my gaze to my shoes, but realize that to survive in this world I will need to woman up and not let my anxiety and incessant worrying take over everything I do, no matter how frightening. I straighten back out slowly and deliberately as I lift my eyes so I am looking forward and not down at the ground before I walk to the small group.

"Hullo!"  I manage, trying-and-failing to sound casual and not shaky as I lift a hand and awkwardly wave.  I'm proud my words are as coherent as they are, considering the circumstances. Anders crosses both arms in front of his chest as his eyes narrow.  Even suspicious, he is easily the most stunning man I have ever laid eyes on; so much so that my faked smile falls and I can do nothing but stare for a moment in stunned amazement.  The figure before me is so much more than the pixels of a video game and my mind blanks for a beat, my jaw dropping involuntarily as I feel a deep pang of longing and awe. Feelings I had been embarrassed of and stuffed deep, deep inside me when Anders was a character in a game and not a flesh-and-blood being blossom uncontrollably wild within me.  My sight sharpens to focus on Anders alone as his eyes seem to spark with life and passion and light and I'm pretty sure time has come to a full-on stop (at least for me). 

Anders' narrowed eyes regard me thoughtfully for a moment before he turns his gaze back to Hawke.  "No - I don't recognize her; I think you may be right about this being some sort of set-up or trap.  If Karl  _ has _ been caught writing to me, there's no telling what those bastards may have done in retaliation."  His features twist into a grimace and his face hardens as he turns back to me. "What is your name and why are you here?  What do you know about Karl?" he demands, his voice rising in volume as his words become harsher.

I swallow hard but manage to keep myself steady enough to respond to him, voice quavering only slightly.  "My name is Sarah,"  _ I have to be so careful!!   _ I think.  One or two wrong words and I will come crashing down from the razor-thin line I am trying to balance.  I fold my arms self-consciously across my chest in order to protect myself from the harsh look on his face and my knowledge of what exactly  _ has _ happened to Karl.  "And...and I  _ do _ know something about Karl; though it would be best if we talked about it ... hrm.... _ more privately _ .  I know you won't like what I have to say and I'm pretty sure you won't want anyone else to hear the information."

Anders takes a few steps forward and has one hand on each of my shoulders, eyes piercing into mine sharp and intense as he tries to glean any information he can.  I shiver at the contact and can't help but lose myself in his gaze.  _ OH MY GODS!!!  I can't believe he is actually TOUCHING me!!!   _ I feel lightning crash through my body; striking and burning my lungs with a plume of fire until there is no air left in them and then melting my insides into liquid heat that pools somewhere deep in my gut and begins to smolder.  

My breath hitches, heat rising to my cheeks before I can stop it.  I see Anders' eyes widen as he watches me, understanding dawning across his face.  His eyes light up and the half smirk now curling one side of his face lets me know I am in for trouble, with a capital T.   _ Not fair _ I think to myself  _ this is so not playing fair!  He...I...I know I can't - we don't belong together.  I belong at home - in my world; in my time. And he is in love with KARL damn it and I want him to be HAPPY!! _

Anders leans forward, his forehead nearly connecting with my own - so close I can feel the physical connection spark between us as his eyes twinkle with mischief.  I subconsciously lick my lips and I feel myself holding my breath, anticipating his next move. This is sooo much harder to resist than the frustrated and almost frantic Anders of a moment ago.  

 "Just tell me," he pleads in a low whisper, his warm breath ghosting over my face, "tell me what's going on with Karl and I guarantee no harm will come to you here."

I gasp and, try as I might to hold it in, I literally  _ squeak _ , breaking the near-silence suddenly around us.  I close my eyes as the pooling heat drops lower, my face suffusing with even greater warmth and a combination of embarrassment and more intimate feelings.  Anders is faaaar too  _ real _ .  I swallow, hard.  "I...." I begin, "that is, there... there is some good and bad news"  I move my gaze to Anders' shoulder, not wanting to see his expression when I tell him the inevitable.

"Don't ask me how I know but I guarantee Karl will be there tonight to meet you in the Chantry.  That's the good news. But the templars found him writing to you and enacted...they... they enacted...punishment."  I don't know how to tell him the next part or how he'll react but I force myself to push past my fear and I slide my gaze to his once more.  I hold his eyes as best I can, taking a deep breath while I reach for him in hopes of softening the blow I know is coming next. With my eyes I try to will as much strength and goodwill as I can into them.  I know he'll need it. 

"This next part will hurt your heart, I know.  But I need you to trust me. I need you to believe me when I say it is  _ not _ the end.  There IS a way to fix this."  I can see Anders' face crease with worry as he looks steadily at me and allows my touch as my hand migrates from his arm to his shoulder and I squeeze it in pre-emptive empathy.  I steadily hold his gaze and suffuse compassion and warmth and comfort and  _ hope  _ into it.  "Karl is Tranquil," my eyes flicker back and forth between his as I try and gauge a response, "but there  _ is _ a way to fix it, I swear it..."  

I start to tell him what I know of the cure for Tranquility that I learned from playing Inquisition but he hasn't heard anything beyond the words "Karl is Tranquil".  He reflexively recoils and wrenches himself from my grip, dawning horror etching itself onto his face - an image that will be forever kept in my own memory. It is like he just now realizes he has been handling a hot stove and has been burnt; like not allowing my touch would somehow make my words less true.   He immediately starts to crumble and collapse to the ground, wailing "NOOOOO,"in a grief-filled voice while holding his head. The blue light that starts to crack and shine through him in small, then increasingly longer and larger lines tells me Justice is about to make an appearance.  _ Shit shit SHIT...I was trying to STOP this from happening!!  _ I think to myself, beginning to panic.   _ There is no way I can manage to hold off Justice from doing whatever the hell he damn well pleases! _

Within seconds, Anders stands tall and straight, eyes burning blue and shining with barely contained fade light as he pulls a staff into his hands from where it had been leaning next to a wall.  

_ Damn it!  No! I have to stop this!!  _

Justice starts striding towards the front entrance in barely contained fury, snarling "They will NEVER take another mage as they took him!"

"JUSTICE!" I yell, my anxiety forgotten in the rush of adrenaline that is flooding my system.  "Justice,  _ STOP _ !"  

I run forward, past a confused and stunned-looking Hawke and Fenris, to grasp Justice's arm and pull at it, albeit absolutely ineffectually.  

" _ Please! _ "  I cry desperately.  "I know you and Anders are close!  I can help you grant justice to ALL the mages that have been made Tranquil, not just Karl!  Just stay and listen a moment before running off to slay all the Templars! PLEASE Justice!!  Let me help! Justice! I only want to help! Please!" 

I know it's a desperate, last-ditch effort but I am trembling with fear, picturing all the ways that Justice will wind up getting Anders trapped or hurt or made Tranquil himself if he continues on as he is.  I cling to his arm with all my might, trying unsuccessfully to dig my feet into the dirt-packed floor beneath me. I know I cannot stop Justice but I hope I can make him pause and listen for a moment at least.

Justice stops his forward momentum, though he still is not looking at me.  "Speak," he commands as the blue light cracks and crackles, static electricity mini-lightning arcs running all around his skin.  

"There is a cure for Tranquility.  If we work together, we can cure Karl once we've rescued him.  It is not a death sentence; not like Anders thinks," I reply urgently; trying to will understanding into the fade spirit.

"Anders is a powerful mage.  A powerful mage gifted in the healing arts.  If there is a cure, he would know," Justice replies.  "What reason do I have to believe you over him."

_ Carefully....carefully _ I think to myself.  "I have information that Anders does not.  I am not from this  _ country...realm...universe...world?..."  _

"I am not from here, exactly ... either," I finally reply.  "Where I am from there are information sources that are not available here.  I know for a fact that the Tranquility ritual can be reversed. I do not know the particulars of the reversal ritual but I know a few things; a place to start anyway.  I know Anders is overwhelmed right now, but if he was in his right mind I am sure he would rather we bring, not only Karl's, but every unjustly made Tranquil mages' mind and magic back rather than simply getting angry and taking it out on a few Templars nearby.  The latter won't make as much difference in the long run as the first option would. Please. Help me shape this into reality," I plead desperately with Justice.

My focus is so heavily narrowed on Justice and convincing him to stop that I don't even notice Hawke until he lunges at me at the same time Fenris tackles Justice to the ground.  Before I can protest or even blink both of us are bound, hands behind our backs and feet bound together. They proceed to set us both on separate cots in the clinic next to each other.  Both Fenris and Hawke look pissed off as hell and have their arms crossed, twin looks of fury suffusing their faces.

I snap my mouth shut as my eyes widen in fear, stilling my movements as much as I possibly can.  These two are beyond deadly in a world where it seems like pretty much everything can and will kill you easily.  Fenris' lyrium lines begin to glow even more brightly and they lend him a fierce, ethereal look of menace, the blue-white glow casting strange, dangerous-looking shadows onto his face.  Hawke is no less intimidating, the classic streak of what looks like blood drawn across his nose and his muscles standing out as much as the staff that marks him as a mage. You can  _ smell  _ the ozone-like, faintly electric scent of magic rolling off of him in a threatening, barely-contained waterfall.  A chanting, rhythmic cadence of  _ dangerous-dangerous-dangerous  _ emanates from his form.

Justice is still struggling on the cot beside me, the movements shifting from strong, even jerks of righteous anger to quick pulls of desperation as Justice's glow retreats and only Anders remains in the honeyed amber eyes that are now panicky and afraid.  When the efforts to free himself quickly prove fruitless, his expressive eyes change yet again, this time a quick flash of desperation, then resignation flitting across them before a solid mask slams sharply into them instead; the false front obviously well practiced.  Anders stills, then leans back in a pose that seems calculated to come across as casual. His mouth curls into a sardonic half-smile as one of his eyebrows shoots up. He is the picture perfect pose of pretending not to care.

"Now, now boys...if you wanted to have your way with me, all you had to do was ask," Anders purrs, "ropes and roughhousing are quite unnecessary".  He leers at Fenris and Hawke, pointedly looking them up and down slowly and appraisingly. This draws the attention of both of them and they turn towards him.  My eyes are, if possible, even wider now, my throat parched and becoming drier with each word Anders is uttering.  _ Is he trying to get himself killed?   _ It was obvious he did not know Hawke or Fenris very well yet but he was baiting them to anger for all he was worth.  Is this what happened when he got re-captured upon his various escape attempts from the Kinloch Circle? I am surprised, in all honesty, that one of the various Templars hadn't simply killed him at some point out of anger or simple exasperated irritation.  I guess when you don't have a lot of options and are expecting to die anyway, this method would at least throw your captors off their guard and garner some kind of feeling that you weren't just giving in to mindless obedience.

Fenris' entire arm is enveloped in the glow that began earlier and has nearly gone see-through as he reaches towards Anders' heart, snarl on his face.  I can feel my own thumping loudly against my ribcage, willing this not to happen. Time seems to slow nearly to a standstill and I do the only thing I can think of; drop my body weight completely and attempt to lean over as far and fast as I can until I am bodily knocking Anders over and out of the way, though it leaves me basically on top of him and in the way of Fenris' phased fingers.

 I feel them pass through me and it is painful and foreign and  _ wrong _ all at the same time.  Time is still moving slowly and I can feel each finger as it touches, then sinks into my body.  I feel my innermost self pushed away, out of my body again and I am staring from above, as if a slow-motion movie is playing out before me.  It feels like the Hanged Man all over again, though I seem to be in more control of myself. 

The woman that is me-in-body screams, probably in pain (though I cannot feel it), as I glance around the room.  All of the objects seem slightly distorted and edged with that blue light again. Fenris is shining like a beacon of light, the lines and swirls on his skin brighter than I'd ever seen them before.  His hand looks solid from where I am now, though the other me not so much. 

I look over and startle to see a man wearing heavy armor standing next to me.  I can't tell much about him, the armor is covering every inch of his body, save a small slit in his helmet where I can see a pair of burning eyes, like the inner part of a fire that is burning hotter than all the rest.  Each line of the armor is limned with the same blue light that covers everything here. I only stare at him, trying to piece together what in the hell is going on.

The armored figure however, seems more startled by my presence than I am by his.  A strong, confident voice emerges from the armor, "Compassion?" it asks incredulously.  The voice echoes in this place-that-is-the-same-but-not and I shake my head mutely. 

"Sarah,"  I reply and I am surprised to find my voice more clear and calm than any of the times I had spoken since I'd found myself here in Kirkwall.  "J-Justice?" I ask in return.

"I am" he replies.  "How long have you been merged with this mortal for you to forget yourself so completely?"  

"Er..." I less-than-helpfully reply.

"You  _ are _ Compassion.  I can feel your essence," he replies to me matter-of-factly.  Then, in a worried tone, he mutters to himself, "Is this to be my fate as well?  To enmesh myself so completely in the mortal I have joined that I am no longer Justice or even Justice/Anders, but simply Anders?  To lose myself to this world?" 

Though I cannot see an expression, he sounds sad.  I turn to walk towards him but find myself unable to move from where I am.  I want to help. I can feel the urge pulling me towards Justice. I will myself to be by him and suddenly I am there and peering up into those eyes shining with light.  "I do not know how I come to be here or why but I swear to you I will help, any way that I can."

"I know this is true.  It is your nature," he replies sadly with a hint of slightly exasperated fondness.  "But some things are beyond what a spirit such as yourself can help, as much as you will it so.  Things are not the same here. You cannot will something to be so easily"

"But isn't it worth it to try?  How do you know I cannot help if I do not even try?" I respond.

"We must always follow our nature, that is fact, lest we lose ourselves to a darker danger.  I am not saying to swerve from your path, young one. Only warning you to not be discouraged if it does not turn out shaped as you willed it.  Things are trickier here." 

"Are we in the fade?" I ask.  I didn't think so but it certainly appeared like it.

Justice shakes his head before replying.  "If it was the fade, you would feel it far more strongly.  This is but an echo, a step away from the mortal realm, just before the Veil that would block our entrance to the full Fade."

Justice turns towards the group again (I had nearly forgotten they were there).  They are still oblivious to whatever was going on with us and both Fenris and Hawke are nowhere to be seen.  Justice watches Anders, who is now somehow out of his bonds and is sprinting towards a nearby table, arms frantically sweeping through the objects, as he grabs something and then returns to the form that I have so recently occupied.  

I turn my attention towards the scene below as well.  The body below me- the body that  _ is _ me- is pale, eyes closed as tremors run up and down it.  Anders' hands are glowing blue again and I watch as small spirits, twinkling with light, zip towards his hands and increase the glow they emit.

I can see all the hurt and pent up sadness built up around Anders form and I long to go and help ease some part of it.  But as his hands extend towards my form, I feel myself being pulled inexorably back to my body. "Justice!" I cry, not wanting to leave my newfound companion just yet.  

But I am not there long enough to hear a reply.  I am thrust back into my body and I scream with the sheer agony of it, my chest erupting in fire and pain for a moment until Anders' hands are there, soothing the hurt away with their beautiful blue light.  I can see a faint, relieved smile on his lips as I blink once, twice, then lose sight of him as I lose consciousness completely this time...

**Author's Note:**

> For funsies!! :D :D :D


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